Snippet #2106650

Valentina stood towards the far end of the room, deep in conversation with a first generation couple. She held a glass of champagne in her hand, long and slim to match her figure, and was taking small, slow sips from it in every break in the conversation. She had been introduced to champagne at a young age, and had developed a taste for it over the years, so it didn't bother her too much.
Giving a small smile and running her hands through her hair as a passer-by complimented her dress, she glanced down at it and did a small twirl. The dress she was currently wearing was metallic black, figure-hugging and ended just before her knees, showing off the rest of her lower body. Strapless, of course, as those were the kind of dresses Valentina most approved of. Her domestic had dressed her in such an ensamble in order to show off what she perceived to be her best feature: her legs. Not that she minded...she looked pretty enough, and it didn't feel too exposing.
Her shoes were picked to match the dress, and were a matt black colour, with heels about four inches from the ground, and her hair was loosely curled and just left to hang as it was over her shoulders.
She knew she looked good on the outside, but...she didn't feel anywhere near as good on the inside.
It was all for show.
The smiles, the laughs, the whole image...it was all forced. And she hated it. Not that it mattered...she was stuck here now, and there was no going back.